


you think it's crazy (when i say you're the one)

by tamquams



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Abuse of italics, Adam Parrish Loves Ronan Lynch, Canon Compliant, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Ronan Lynch Loves Adam Parrish, Ronan POV, i don't know what this is but here you go anyway, perhaps the origin story for tamquam alter idem, surprisingly little swearing coming from me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-10
Updated: 2020-03-10
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:35:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23095708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tamquams/pseuds/tamquams
Summary: What do you know about love?
Relationships: Ronan Lynch/Adam Parrish
Comments: 23
Kudos: 168





	you think it's crazy (when i say you're the one)

**Author's Note:**

> howdy, i can't stop writing about pynch apparently but whatever! this fic is loosely based on the song forever by billy raffoul, so that's where the title comes from :) this is super short and kind of nonsensical but i hope you enjoy!

_What do you know about love?_

The question haunted Ronan. He couldn’t get it out of his damn head. Adam’s voice, hoarse and hollow, but not cruel. It was not a question asked out of anger, or frustration, or even fear. It had been genuine. Curious. That was the worst part of all.

Because Adam really wanted to know. _Ronan, what do you know about love?_

He hadn’t known what to say. They had just barely beaten a demon, brought their best friend back from the dead — Ronan’s mother had barely been dead for a day. _What do you know about love?_ I know that love dies, Ronan wanted to say. Love hurts. Love ends. I know that love consumes you. Love eats you. Love kills you.

Instead, he had said nothing.

It had been months, and he and Adam were doing well — not just well but fucking _spectacular_ — but Ronan couldn’t help but go back to that question. _What do you know about love? What do you know about love?_ Every day, it seemed, his answer would change.

Monday. _What do you know about love?_ Love is the strongest force in the world.

Tuesday. _What do you know about love?_ It hurts. God, it hurts.

Wednesday. _What do you know about love?_ Nothing. Nothing. Nothing.

Thursday. _What do you know about love?_ I am made of love. I am what happens when love is given a name and a body. I am love with a beating heart. I speak love, I breathe love, I bleed love. I _am_ love.

Friday. _What do you know about love?_ I am in love with you.

They hadn’t told each other yet. They both knew it, both knew they had been in love for longer than either of them would like to admit, but they just couldn’t say it. Because Adam had never been loved. Because Ronan had _always_ been loved. Because Adam was leaving. Because Ronan was staying. Because, because, because.

Because _what do you know about love?_

I’ll tell you what I know about love, Ronan thought. Love was spending night after night freezing half to death in the apartment above St. Agnes because Adam worked late and couldn’t come to the Barns, and also his furnace broke but Ronan runs warm and his body heat keeps Adam from getting hypothermia in his sleep. Love was Adam grudgingly allow himself to be wrapped up in Ronan’s sweater and his blankets and his comfort, because god _damn_ it, Parrish, it wasn’t charity, it was a _relationship_ , and anyway, it was too cold to say no. Love was Adam trusting Ronan to watch after him when he was scrying, and Ronan trusting Adam to meet him in his dreams, and both of them trusting each other with the deep, dark, broken pieces of themselves. 

_What do you know about love?_ Fucking everything.

“What do you know about love?” Ronan blurted out.

Adam turned slowly, brows furrowed. There was a crease in his forehead that Ronan wanted to kiss away. He pressed his lips to the spot, but when he pulled away, the line was still there. He frowned at it.

“I don’t think I’m the right person to ask,” Adam said, and it sounded sort of like a secret.

“I think you’re the only person to ask,” said Ronan, and it definitely sounded like a secret.

Adam sighed. “Ronan,” he said, voice tired, “you know more about love than I ever will.” Ronan wasn’t sure what was worse, the words or the way he said them. Not angry, not sad, not pained — just resigned. Just defeated. Just like it was a fact of life.

Rage burned underneath Ronan’s skin, pure hatred for Adam’s parents and the things that they did to this beautiful boy, but he pushed it down and tried again. “You have to know something. Tell me. Tell me anything.”

They were in bed, and it was warm and comfortable and peaceful, and maybe that was why Adam actually considered it. He chewed on his bottom lip as he thought, looking determinedly away from Ronan. When he began to speak, his voice was very small and insecure, as if he was afraid of saying the wrong thing. “I think love is giving someone the opportunity to hurt you and hoping they don’t.” He paused again, searching for the right words. “I think love is having the opportunity to hurt someone and not even considering it.”

Ronan’s throat hurt. His head hurt. His heart hurt. He reached for Adam’s hand, gripped it so softly that he might not have been touching him at all. Adam squeezed his hand in return, the contact solid and grounding for the both of them.

“What do _you_ know about love?” Adam asked after a beat, his voice steadier than it had been just moments before.

Ronan was ready for the question this time. He had an entire answer planned out, and he opened his mouth to say it, but the words didn’t come. Instead, one of his hands found Adam’s cheek and Ronan surged forward to kiss him.

When they broke apart, maybe seconds later, maybe hours, they were both breathless and grinning. Ronan brushed a strand of hair away from Adam’s forehead, and Adam’s eyelids fluttered, his lashes fanning out on his cheeks for a second.

“Yeah,” Ronan said in reply to nothing at all.

Adam’s smile went lazy and lopsided. “Yeah,” he whispered back, one of his legs twining with Ronan’s. “I — you know, I…”

Ronan bumped their noses together. “I know,” he assured Adam, his vision fuzzy and unfocused at their closeness. “Me too.” Their faces were close enough that they could feel each other’s blushes. “Me too.” 

“Tamquam alter idem,” Adam whispered. His lips brushed the corner of Ronan’s, and Ronan tried and failed to repress a shudder. _Tamquam alter idem. As if a second self._

“Tamquam alter idem,” Ronan repeated softly, the calloused pad of his thumb brushing back and forth across Adam’s cheekbone. 

_What do you know about love?_ This, Ronan thought. This. This is love.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading, i hope you liked it! as always, you're welcome to come interact with me on tumblr, i'm @wespers :)


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